


stargazing

by Molnija



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Pre-Relationship, in which there's no war but they still manage to be sad, lots of pining, the others are mentioned and Sylvain & Annette even get to talk wow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21863380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molnija/pseuds/Molnija
Summary: The Dimitri he knows looks exhausted more than anything, like he doesn’t get enough sleep no matter what Dedue or Felix’s father tell him, but right now, it’s like he’s almost glowing, still tired, but genuinely pleased to be here.It’s annoying.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13
Collections: 2019 Dimilix Holiday Exchange





	stargazing

**Author's Note:**

> [for the prompt of the Millenium Festival in an AU where the war didn't happen and everything went as it should have gone]
> 
> hello Natalie!!!!!! Happy Holidays and if you're not celebrating anything then I hope you have some good days regardless!!!!!!! and the same obviousy goes out to anyone else reading this, I'm rooting for ya ☆〜（ゝ。∂）
> 
> okay so. funny story. I was gonna write something for your fairytale prompt (which I LOVED it's such a good prompt I promise I had a cool idea for it almost immediately), in fact I even had 2000 words ready, but then I wrote myself into a corner and couldn't reasonably get out of it in time ... I'm hoping to finish that one too, but until then, this prompt was also very fun to work with! and kinda more up my alley anyway, so it's probably higher quality than the other would have been coughs
> 
> I'm sorry it's not super romantic (I wanted to make it that, but it didn't ~feel~ right), but it is filled with lots of longing and heartache, so that's something. looks like even in a world in which everything is okay, kind of, they've still gotta suffer. but not as much. because that would be cruel and we don't do that here, this time at least
> 
> still bad at titles, but this one is kinda clever I think. or maybe not. I can't tell anymore I'm just [gestures wildly] tryin' my best
> 
> nothing much more to say other than hope you enjoy!! and thanks for your great prompts, I had something in mind for pretty much all of them aa,,,

The Blue Lions classroom hasn’t changed much in five years.

The people in it have, though, and it’s been throwing Felix for a loop all evening. He’s seen Sylvain around, he runs into Mercedes occasionally, and of course he’s on court with Dimitri, Dedue, and Ingrid, but he almost didn’t recognise Ashe earlier, and there have been a couple of people that tried to talk to him like they knew him when he had no clue who they were supposed to be. One of them may have been Annette. He's not quite sure. If it was, she’s not saying anything now.

At least the professor is still the same, blank expression and all, though he thinks he’s seen the hint of a smile on their lips a couple of times today.

Now, too, they seem happy, chatting away with Dimitri, and he finds himself watching them. Or, well, staring at them, rather. The Dimitri he knows looks exhausted more than anything, like he doesn’t get enough sleep no matter what Dedue or Felix’s father tell him, but right now, it’s like he’s almost glowing, still tired, but genuinely pleased to be here.

It’s annoying.

“Since, you know,” Sylvain continues a conversation with him and Annette that he wasn’t listening to, “the professor said we should do that every once in a while.”

“Everyone’s really busy now though,” Annette remarks with a frown. “Especially Ingrid and Felix with their knight duties. Oh, Ashe said he’s going to be knighted too, right?”

Even if he has no idea what this is about, Felix won’t just let that stand, at the very least. “Don’t lump me in with those fools. I’m not a knight.”

“You’re pretty much a knight.” Sylvain elbows him in the side, which he responds to by doing the same thing with a bit more force, but his friend doesn’t even stumble. Curse him alongside Dimitri for growing so big and sturdy. Brick walls, both of them, and with the intelligence of one to match. “Sure, not on paper, but you’re doing all the same things as Ingrid.”

“I’m just there because I have no choice.”

Technically he could probably renounce his claim to nobility and become a mercenary or something, but that’s not a choice at all. Just because Dimitri has been keeping himself in check, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need to at least be around him, just in case. He can’t trust his father with that, king’s advisor or no; he’s way too soft on the boar king.

Sylvain makes a noise that sounds half like he’s mocking him and half like he’s curious, but doesn’t press any further and instead redirects the conversation to whatever it was they were talking about before, which Felix takes as his cue to drop out and leave the classroom for a bit.

He’s never been good at this kind of thing – class reunions, festivals, balls. They’re not his place. Rather, he’s drawn to the training grounds, hoping to find someone to battle or at least to get his body moving.

This place is the same, too. He remembers vividly how five years ago, he was in the exact same situation – running away from some stuffy gathering and rather using the time alone to try out some different weapons instead. Last time, he found out that he’s really not good at swinging an axe. He hasn’t been training with that much either, so it’s likely still the case.

To his lack of surprise, nobody is here tonight either. It’s fine by him. Running around Fhirdiad all the time and being stopped by someone bothering him every two seconds has really made him appreciate his alone time.

The practice swords here are too light for his taste now, but they’ll have to do – he’d rather not accidentally hurt some unsuspecting intruder with his own blade if he can help it.

After a few swings he falls into a rhythm pretty quickly. Shadow fencing isn’t the most thrilling activity, but it sure beats standing around and having people tell him how long it’s been and how happy they are to see everyone again, especially if Dimitri is right there, shining more brightly than ever before next to the professor.

He’s been watching him for six years now, ever since they came to the academy.

Because someone needs to rile him in when the darkness surges again. Because his father refuses to believe and because Dedue would do nothing to keep it at bay, because Ingrid and Gilbert still say it’s going to be fine, even when it’s not. With how strained their relation with the Empire is, it’s only a matter of time until this all blows over, and then who is going to call the boar king by what he is except Felix?

That’s what he’s supposed to do. It’s what he was _born_ to do, quite literally. Their fates have been intertwined from the beginning – liege and servant, crown and shield. He hates it, has always hated it in a way, even before Duscur. Thinking of Dimitri as someone who is supposed to be his superior is still something he doesn’t quite manage.

They were friends. And now …

“So you are here. I was wondering where you’d gone.”

Speak of the devil. It’s like all he has to do is think about him and Dimitri pops up when he really doesn’t want him to.

Felix stills and lowers his sword arm, though he keeps his grip firm on the helm of the weapon when he turns around to see him standing in the entrance, smiling some stupid smile that looks nothing like the one he wears around the professor.

“What do you care? Don’t you tire of seeing me all the time on court? Right now is a prime opportunity to get away from me.”

“We don’t see each other _that_ much … It’s mostly Rodrigue calling you in.” He doesn’t show any signs of moving or coming in to spar with him any time soon, and somehow that’s the most annoying part of all. “I know you don’t like big gatherings like this, but it has been five years.”

“I’ve already talked to everyone. Now if you’re not planning on fighting with me, leave.” _Don’t just stand there._

Something flashes across Dimitri’s expression, but it’s gone before he can even think of trying to decipher it, not that he particularly wants to. “This is not about everyone. I wanted to talk to you.”

Oh, great. From the sounds of it it’s either about something deep and meaningful or small talk, and he doesn’t know which would be worse. “Is it important? If not, I don’t care to hear it.”

“Felix …” Dimitri says, almost a plea but not quite, and his treacherous heart skips a beat.

Curse him and those feelings he buried many, many years ago within the confines of his very being. Curse Dimitri for bringing them out again recently by smiling like he did, and by not directing those smiles at Felix.

“Get to the point. I can’t stand to see you stumbling around like that. Aren’t kings supposed to be good speakers?”

“Will you go to the Goddess Tower with me?”

What.

_What._

He must be gaping like a fish, mouth open and eyes scanning Dimitri’s face for any hint of joking, but he’s dead serious. He’s not even being awkward about it anymore, just staring him down with complete determination, and honestly, that’s even harder to deal with than if he kept being a bumbling idiot.

“There is a certain wish I would like to make, and I want you to be there with me. There is no point if you aren’t.” Each one of his words is clearly pronounced and about as sharp as he assumes Areadbhar would be, stabbing him over and over again and leaving him bleeding a feeling he didn’t even know he had.

Yet his voice is firm when he replies, “Why?”

“I cannot tell you. Not yet, anyway. But it is a wish I feel I have to make.”

Oh, this is … This is the worst. Is that guy even listening to himself? “Relying on wishes isn’t like you. What about taking action yourself?”

Now that seems to get some reaction out of Dimitri, though he can’t tell what exactly it is. Turning his gaze, just a little, looking just past him but not even committing to it properly by straight up looking away. That’s annoying, too. “That … Would be difficult.”

“Great, then accept the challenge. We haven’t even had a real conversation since forever ago, and now you want to drag me along to some superstitious nonsense like that … You should know better.”

“Now, _that_ is because you keep avoiding me—” Dimitri stops himself and shakes his head, sighing. “No, you’re right. I have been talking to your father a lot, but not to you, even with you always being around. My time …”

“You’re busy,” Felix states and tries to ignore the sting. “I know. It doesn’t matter. I’m still not going up there to make that stupid wish.”

“I see.” Dimitri looks around the training ground as if he’s searching for something. “Will you spar with me then?”

Ugh, he’s such a pain.

How is it possible that Felix has been missing it? He’s right there every day, watching him, how he’s talking to his father and Dedue and now the professor, but Felix, the one person who was supposed to be always by his side, he only ever spares a glance and a quick hello. Sure, he knows he’s not the most approachable person, but it’s not like Dimitri isn’t used to it.

But after everything that happened, no matter how he conducts himself, Felix know better than anyone how much of a pain he really is. So should be happy that he gets to keep watch over the boar king without the drawback of having to actually deal with him.

He should be happy that he asked his father to advise him, never even considering Felix, and that he doesn’t have to remind himself of the monster that lurks beneath the friendly façade every day, lest he fall deeper into those feelings he may have had once that never truly faded.

He should be happy.

“Of course, if you’re already here. Quit wasting my time and pick a weapon.” He stops and thinks for a moment, then corrects, “Actually, don’t pick. Let’s do lances today.”

Dimitri looks at him like a lost puppy. It’s almost cute. “That’s unusual.”

It sure is. His father uses lances, and Glenn did, too, on horseback at least. Felix likes to stick with his sword, maybe hand-to-hand combat if need be. But right now … “I just feel like it. Don’t hold back, I can still beat you.”

Dimitri stands there wordlessly for a couple more torturous seconds, and then he finally nods and comes in for real. “Of course I won’t. You had better be prepared.“

Five devastating losses later, Felix finds himself sitting on the ground with his weapon next to him, panting like he’d just run all across the monastery grounds and back.

Dimitri is still standing, with his lance in one hand and a jug of water in the other, and he looks like he didn’t even need to break a sweat. He can tell he’s trying not to gloat, but he’d rather he did – it’s Felix’s own fault for pretending like he could hold a candle to one of the strongest lancemen he’s ever met with a weapon he’s nowhere near used to.

“Here,” Dimitri says and tosses him the jug, which he only barely catches.

“Careful, boar, don’t break it.” Even Felix can tell that his voice is lacking his usual edge though, and not just from his breathlessness.

This was … Nice, kind of. Well, minus the humiliation.

He appreciates the water at least, even if this defeat is going to sting for a while. He’s not sure what exactly he was trying to prove, but whatever it was, he failed miserably at it.

Having heard the clashing weapons not long ago, this place suddenly feels quieter. The stars are shining above them, and it’s cold but warmer than in Faerghus, and some sentimental part of him he thought had died years ago can’t help but find it relaxing.

He looks up at Dimitri, illuminated by the moonlight, and feels his heart ache a little with something he doesn’t understand.

“What was the wish you wanted to make?”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking. It doesn’t matter either way. They’re not going to make the wish, whatever it may or may not be.

But. He does want to know.

Dimitri, however, shakes his head with a soft smile. “It’s irrelevant now.”

“Huh? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Now he really wants to know.

“You said I should take action myself, and you’re right.”

“Well, _yes_ , but—”

“You’re curious?” That smile has turned into an almost smug grin that he really wants to wipe off his face, but he doesn’t feel like proving him right, either.

Whatever he does, though, he knows Dimitri is seeing through him anyway. Distance or no, they still grew up together. Felix knowing Dimitri better than anyone is – unfortunately – not a one way street.

So he says nothing and just stands up, puts the jug back on the shelf it originally came from, and gathers his discarded lance to put it away.

Part of him is hoping for Dimitri to call out to him when he has his back turned to him, just like he used to when they were children. Felix would ask him about something he shouldn’t be talking about, and he wouldn’t tell the answer, but then blurt it out anyway in a moment of weakness. But they’re not children anymore, and that boy has died years ago.

Even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. Even if he wishes so desperately to see in Dimitri what Ingrid and Sylvain still see – the Dimitri from then wouldn’t be avoiding him when they’re on the same damn court.

Though, in all fairness, the Felix from then is long gone, too.

By all means, he should have moved on by now. He stopped grieving Glenn. What is he doing pining for the attention of yet another dead man who just so happens to be good at pretending he’s still alive?

“Felix? Are you alright?”

He didn’t notice until Dimitri spoke up that he’d frozen in place, clinging to the lance as if it was his lifeline. Goddess, he’s become pathetic. He’d blame it on the knighthood everyone seems to want to force on him, but this doesn’t seem like the chivalrous way of thinking either, so he has no scapegoat.

“Of course,” he manages to shoot back and puts the lance next to all the others, then turns around to face him again. Dimitri’s wearing an expression he can’t read, which isn’t all that unusual. “Got anything else to do here?”

“Not particularly.”

“Go back, then. And say hello to Professor Manuela from me if you happen to run into her, I still owe her.” He doesn’t feel like rejoining the festivities anytime soon, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be at least second-hand polite about it. He’s part of the kingdom knights now, after all; as much as he’d like to drag their reputation through the mud sometimes, Glenn would definitely scold him for should there be such a thing as a next life, and that’s not a risk he’s willing to take.

Dimitri looks disappointed, and if he was in a mood any more melancholic than this one, he might have called that expression on his face the ghost of a pout. But the boar king doesn’t do such things anymore, so Felix must be getting overly sentimental. “I was happy to be talking to you, though. If you’re not joining me for the Goddess Tower, will you at least let me do that some more?”

“When have you ever needed my permission to annoy me?” he says, but he’s aware it’s a weak answer if it’s supposed to be a retort. Usually, he’d just walk away. But the truth is that the thought of being alone with his thoughts now is even more painful, and he really … Doesn’t want him to leave.

It’s been too long.

“I suppose never,” Dimitri admits and laughs, just a little. “There is so much I want to ask, though. How have you been doing recently?”

“Really? All this, and the first thing you ask is _how I’m doing_? You’re worse than I thought.” Then again, what was he expecting from his social skills lately? Whenever he sees Dimitri, he’s usually busy, exhausted, or a combination of both. He was probably overjoyed at the change of pace the Millennium Festival provides, but only talking politics for five years does likely take a toll on your ability to make small talk.

It certainly does feel like a change of pace for Felix, too – for better and for worse. The reasonable thing would still be to leave and not torture himself any more with a bad excuse for a conversation as well as whatever cursed feelings still bind him to this man, but if there’s one thing he only admits to himself in times like these when he’s left alone with something he doesn’t know how to deal with, it’s that reason isn’t really his own strong suit, either.

So he stays, prepared or not, for as much of it as he can handle.

(Felix thinks, somewhere in the back of his mind where he thought he’d buried those emotions, that if he had a wish to make himself, it would probably involve Dimitri.)

**Author's Note:**

> what was Dimitri's wish? we may never know. well, I know. but spelling it out made this boring so I cut it
> 
> [this part of the A/N was something else but then it died because I am, in fact, an idiot, and this shall stand here as a reminder to always double-check your copypasted links]


End file.
